Aboard the larger vessel, Nutkraka, captain of the Gutwrencher and Warboss of the WAAAGH! Dorkka, rubbed his green meaty fists together in anticipation at the view screen before him.
Their prey was trailing long streamers of flame in its wake. Its weapon systems had failed, leaving it all but helpless. The best it could do was limp, lamely, away from Nutkraka's mighty warship; only delaying the inevitable.
It was this moment of the WAAAGH! that he enjoyed most: that sacred moment before the kill, when his weapon was raised, and he could taste the bloodlust on his very breath, along the Dakka unleashed upon the unlucky adversaries. It was time to deliver the killing blow.
Nutkraka had already been denied this moment far too long. The Humies were loathsome runts; lacking the purity of the Ork'z brutal might, but they had defied his pursuit admirably. Nutkraka could almost respected their stubborn determination, if nothing else. Still, it was time to finish this. He motioned to the Gretchins and Ork boyz manning the weapons station.
"Eyestompa, hold your fire." Nutkraka began, with a grin as he leaned back in his command throne with relish. He would savour this victory. "Vox Boyz, open a channel with the Humie vessel. Ask if they have any final words to impart with us prior to their leaving of this galaxy."
"Yes Boss, I'z doing it now…" Parakh, the communications officer paused, then frowned, "Boss, there is encoded message from the Humies….addressed to you personally…"
Brainmasha, a silver-flecked senior manning the weapons station, snorted in raucous amusement, "Maybe they iz wantz to surrender. Haha!"
A wave of snide laughter rippled across the bridge. Brainmasha had always been popular with the pack. It would be wise to kill him soon, Nutkraka noted. Eager to re-assert his authority, Nutkraka raised his voice and barked over the cackling of his crew.
"Then we shall have some fun with them, before we blast those gits with dakka." Nutkraka bared his fangs eagerly, amber eyes glittering. "Read it."
Parakh's brow rippled in confusion as his eyes digested the contents of the message. Warboss Nutkraka leaned forward, displeased with the hesitation.
"Boss…" Parakh trailed off, his voice perplexed.
"Well, what does it say, ya git?" The Warboss hissed impatiently. "Out with it!"
Parakh's brow remained knotted, "Well met, Greenskins, scourge of da humie race…"
Parakh twisted about and stared blankly at the Warboss.
"…Boss, what does it mean?"
An unsettling jolt ran shivers up along the hide of Nutkraka' spine. His hairs stood on end. Nutkraka had seldom encountered this feeling before. It was strange, alien. It was the feeling of a WAAGH! gone wrong; of a hunter becoming the prey. He eyed the view-screen closely. The Terraseemed puny, insignificant: its weapons were silent, its engines all but crippled. Surely such a lame vessel could pose no threat, not to the Gutwrencher and it's big dakka! If anything, the Terra had stopped moving entirely.
The realisation struck Nutkraka like a Nob's Choppa. By then, it was too late.
"Reinforce the forward-"
Nutkrakas bellow was drowned out as the Pride Of Terra ploughed engines-first into the mouth of the Gutwrencher. The Gutwrencher's shield buckled under the immense impact instantly. There was an awful crunching sound, as the super-heated engines chewed deeply into the Battlekroozer's front hull. Multiple hull breaches exploded across the surface of the Gutwrencher's prow, its superstructure compacting against the lighter warship with an aching groan.
Then one of the Terra's engines detonated.
The explosion was catastrophic. Fully a third of the Terra was obliterated outright. Hundreds on both vessels were vaporised in an instant. Those vaporised were the most fortunate. Dozens more fell prey to hull breaches as the rest of the ship peeled away. Gretchin, Squigs, Snotlings and unlucky Guardsmen and Space Marines, thrashing and shrieking, were ripped out into the cold void, spinning them off into freezing oblivion. Radiation, unleashed in the wake of the devastation visited upon the engine core, swept through the lower decks of the Terra like a cancer, irradiating every crew member therein. Those that did not die instantly would succumb over the next few weeks, subject to a cruel and pitiless fate.
The Gutwrencher, despite its superior tonnage and condition, fared no better. With its weapon systems still powered up, and its ship based weapons already on the brink of overheating, the Battlekroozer was racked with a violent chain reaction of internal explosions which arced across the sides of the ship. Exposed to the full brunt of the Terra's engine detonation, large sections of the Implacable's frontal superstructure ignited and began to burn from within. Fire scoured through the forward decks.
Warboss Nutkraka ordered all emergency hatches sealed, content to let those trapped within die so that the rest of the ship might live. It was a decision as inspired as it was ruthless. Indeed, some said later that the Nutkraka even allowed himself a smile when issuing the order. For days afterward, the immolated corpses of Ork boyz choked the corridors. Still, the flames were contained. Nutkraka's leadership, though mercilessly cruel, had saved the ship. Twice, the stricken Gutwrencher had to switch to emergency power, before eventually, twenty minutes later, it managed to restore itself to a relatively stable orbit above the planet.
Meanwhile, the remainder of the Pride of Terra, dragging with it a long plume of azure fire, hurtled toward New Geneva in a graceless spin.